


The Three Times Grimmy Denied Anything Was Even Happening (And The One Time It Actually Did)

by daintyghosts



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daintyghosts/pseuds/daintyghosts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Greg thinks you’re gay for me.” Nick announces later on when Harry calls from Spain or Sweden or Slovakia or wherever the bloody hell they are on tour. Harry just laughs in his unaffected-by-anything way. “Does he, now?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Three Times Grimmy Denied Anything Was Even Happening (And The One Time It Actually Did)

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a working title but then it kind of stuck and then calling it anything else felt wrong.  
> I caught the Gryles/Stymshaw bug and I'm not even sorry.  
> Alternatively, you can read this over on my new, shiny Livejournal community by [clicking here](http://daintyfics.livejournal.com/680.html).  
> This is un-beta'd so any mistakes are my own. If you would be interested in possibly becoming a beta for me, the link to my ask.fm is in the end notes c:

“What’s going on with you and Styles?”  
Nick looks up from the entirely important and obviously relevant game he’s playing on his phone in an attempt to avoid doing as much work as he can.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nick informs him with a shake of his head before looking back at the screen in his hands.  
“You do, Grim. He’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” Greg insists and ironically when Nick looks back up to him he’s tilting his own head in a very puppy-like manner.  
He tells him as much and only gets a sigh in return.

“Okay, fine,” Nick sits up, placing his phone down on his desk. “He’s following me like a lost puppy, I get it. We’ll just put up posters and hope that somebody claims him or something.”

Greg just shakes his head. “Just be careful, alright? He’s only a kid.”  
Nick snorts, “He’s 18, that’s hardly pre-pubescent!” He demands.  
“No, but-”

“Look,” Nick interrupts, “We’re just friends. Just, like, friends that hang out and follow each other like puppies and all that normal _friend_ stuff. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

With that, Nick stands up and wanders out the room, stopping and ruffling Greg’s hair on the way.

~*~*~

“Greg thinks you’re gay for me.” Nick announces later on when Harry calls from Spain or Sweden or Slovakia or wherever the bloody hell they are on tour.  
Harry just laughs in his unaffected-by-anything way. “Does he, now?”  
“Yep.” Nick confirms, popping the ‘p’ sound. “He also thinks you’re a puppy.”  
“Right,” There’s a moment of confused silence. “Well I suppose there are worse things to be?”  
Nick laughs. “Like Frankie Cocozza, y’mean?”  
“There’s always that.” Harry agrees and Nick can imagine him rolling his eyes.

“So,” Harry continues after taking a breath, “is it alright if I tell you I miss you?”  
Nick _knows_ the way his breath catches in his throat is audible even across the crappy phone connection. “Harry-”  
“No but, like, when people go away their puppies miss them, don’t they?”  
“I guess, but-”  
“And,” Harry interrupts again. “I’m away from you so I can miss you.”  
“Yeah,” Nick says after a minute. “Yeah, you can miss me.”  
“Good.” Harry replies, sounding content.

At the end of the call, when Nick can feel a six pack coming on from trying not to laugh at a story about Harry falling down some stairs in sound check because _it’s not funny, Nick, everybody saw_ they say their goodbyes and while listening to the dial tone Nick realises he never even said “I miss you” back.

~*~*~

The next day he wakes up to  a picture message from Harry of the boy smiling into the camera while cuddling an adorable puppy. Nick scrolls down to read the caption “Can we both miss you?” and he keeps chuckling to himself all morning.

~*~*~

 

 

> flying home tomorrow!!!!! xh
> 
> **Don’t go thinking that you can abandon me across the world like some kind of international pop sensation and then come back and it’ll all be okay x**
> 
> we land at half past 1?? xh
> 
> **I’ll be there, you fucker x**
> 
> good :) xoxoh

~*~*~

Harry bows his head in embarrassment when he saw Nick stood waiting at arrivals. Which Nick thinks is pretty rude seeing as he’d spent a good 4 hours the night before decorating his “Welcome Home Harry!!!!! xoxo” sign with glitter glue. He’d hardly even got any help from Aimee who had got up and left around the same time he got the pom-poms and pipe cleaners out.

“You are such a fucking nutter.” Harry announces as he walks over to where Nick is jigging around on the spot. “I should’ve got a cab.”  
“And where is the fun in that?” Nick asks gaining a one dimpled smile that punches him right in the heart.

“Did you miss me?”  
“Why would I do that?” Nick asks with a mock-serious expression.

He watches as the corners of Harry’s mouth drop slightly before he gets the joke and grins again.  
“C’mere.” Nick gesturs towards himself with his arms outstretched, the poster forgotten in one hand.  
Harry rolls his eyes before stepping forward and curling himself around Nick’s frame with his face tucked into his neck.  
Nick shivers slightly at the feel of the warm breath tickling the sensitive spot below his ear but is distracted by a loud wolf whistle from behind him.

He reluctantly lets Harry go and turns to find the other four boys stood with their suitcases and mocking smiles.  
“What’s this then?” Louis asks, chuckling. _The bastard._  
“Looks… Friendly.” Zayn agrees.  
“What the fuck is that, mate?” Niall asks, pointing to the fluorescent pink paper scrunched up on the floor by Nick’s feet. _Oops._

“It’s a poster.” Harry shrugs, stepping back out of Nick’s personal bubble. “It says my name on.”  
His tone is nonchalant like people spend their spare time wrestling with craft glue and trying (and failing) not to get glitter over their furniture for him all the time.

Liam walks over with a raised eyebrow and picks up the poster, unfolding it and reading the garish bubble writing. He grins at it and turns to shows it to the other boys.  
“Aww Grimmy, that’s _adorable_!” Louis cries, tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery.  
“I just didn’t want to, y’know, lose him in the crowd.” Nick replies, silently willing the ground to eat him up.

“What like we did, you mean?” Louis continues and when Nick looks over to Harry for an explanation all he gets is a flushed, guilty face that’s avoiding eye contact.  
“Pardon?” Nick asks, unable to contain it.  
“Harry was too eager to wait for us at baggage and instead practically sprinted through customs.” Louis explains with a shit-eating grin on his face.  
“Is that so, Harold?” Nick asks with a grin, looking back at the curly-haired man.  
Harry just shrugs and concentrates on pulling on a non-existent loose thread on his jumper.

“So what’s going on with you two anyway?” Louis asks, bringing Nick’s attention back to the others.  
“Nothing,” Nick shrugged. “I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”  
He pretended not to see the flash of annoyance on Harry’s face and busied himself with forming a group hug.

~*~*~

 

 

>   
>  wanna grab lunch? xh
> 
> **Some of us have work to do, young Harold x**
> 
> 12:30 at pret? Xh
> 
> **Alright, you twisted my arm x**

~*~*~

When Nick walks in he instantly sees Harry attempting to look incognito with a beanie covering his curls and shifty eyes.  
“They’re gonna think you’re a robber or, like, a terrorist or something.” Nick informs him as he plonks down in the opposite seat.  
Harry snorts a laugh. “You can never be too careful.”  
“You sound like you’re giving me _the talk_.” Nick grins.  
He feels the sharp jab of Harry’s foot colliding with his shin under the table.  
“Rude.” He mutters, returning the kick and still grinning.

“I got you a coffee.” Harry explains, gesturing to the two mugs that have been placed precariously near the edge of the too-small table.  
Reaching out to move both drinks away from their messy end, Nick hums a thank you before taking a long sip as the pair fall into a comfortable silence.

That is until Harry breaks it with a not-so-subtle “why do you keep telling people that nothing is going on between us?”  
Nick swallows his mouthful of coffee too quickly and ends up choking on it and flailing his hands around in an attempt to cool down his scalded throat.  
Harry just watches with a raised eyebrow and amused expression. _Twat._

“Um,” Nick says after a moment. “Because there isn’t anything going on between us?”  
Harry hums thoughtfully. “Are you sure?”  
“Yes. Pretty sure.”  
“Oh.” Harry stirs his drink before taking a sip. “That’s strange because I kind of thought this was a _something_ , this thing between us I mean.”

“You must have thought wrong.”  
Nick realises how harsh it sounded as soon as the words leave his mouth. He winces as he sees Harry’s face scrunch up momentarily before he schools it into an emotionless expression.  
“Oh.” He says. “Okay then.”  
“Okay then.” Nick agrees, confused.

~*~*~

 

 

> 1 Text Message: Louis Tomlinson  
>  **Wow, you’re a massive dick.**

~*~*~

“And then what?” Aimee asks, sitting up from where she was previously hunched over her laptop screen.  
“…And then nothing.” Nick shrugs, taking a sip of his wine. He’s sprawled out on the sofa, with his feet tucked under Aimee’s crossed legs and The Food Network on mute as an enthusiastic man with a beard runs around a kitchen.  
“What do you mean _nothing_? Something else must have happened.”  
“The topic just changed, like that.” He clicks his fingers to show his point. “It was like he flipped a switch and suddenly telling me about the funny thing Liam had said the day before was more important.”  
He goes to take another gulp of wine to find that his glass is empty and when he looks over at the bottle it seems to have magically disappeared even though Aimee was on the Jack and Coke. _Weird._

“Grim,” Aimee says after a moment of silence. “You don’t think-”  
“No. No, I do not think. In fact, I actively try my hardest to do the opposite. I anti-think. Yep, I am the anti-thinker or something.” He nods seriously, his head feeling slightly less clear now he’s aware of the wine situation.

“Hear me out.” Aimee says, “It’s just, I think that maybe he really sort of liked you.”  
“Sort of liked me? I sort of like toast but that doesn’t mean anything.”  
“I’m being serious, you dick.” She swats at his head, missing by at least a metre. “You might have really hurt his feelings.”  
Nick shrugs. “He’s an internationally famous pop star that travels the world and gets knickers thrown at him. I’m sure his feelings are fine.”

“Is that what this is about?” Aimee asks, putting her laptop down on the side table with a little more force that necessary.  
“Pardon?” Nick asks, placing his glass down and sitting up.  
“You think he doesn’t want you because he has knickers thrown at him.”  
“No,” Nick insists. “I think he doesn’t want me because I am old, falling apart and spending my free time watching cooking shows and drinking red wine. That’s why I think, _know_ , he doesn’t want me.”  
“Wow.” Aimee sighs and Nick shoots her a questioning glance. “I just never thought you were that kind of person.”  
“What kind of person?” Nick scoffs.  
Aimee looks at him seriously. “The kind to give up on somebody because they don’t think they’re good enough for them _even though_ that person has made it quite clear to anybody that they want you _and_ want you to, like, throw your knickers at them but you still won’t even give them a chance.”  
Before Nick can even reply, she stands up and walks out the room.

“Fuck.” He mutters to himself, rubbing his eyes.

~*~*~

 

 

> **Hiya, can we talk? x**
> 
> **Harry? x**
> 
> **Harold, are you ignoring my calls?**
> 
> **Ok, call me when you want to.**

~*~*~

“I really hope this is a good idea.” Nick mutters to himself, turning up the Florence song he’s listening to and looking out of the taxi window, watching London pass by in a blur.

His headphones are mostly blocking out the crappy radio station that the driver is listening to but a familiar opening beat makes him pause his own music and tug them out of his ears suddenly.  
Nick grins, listening to Liam sing the opening line and remember when Harry tickled him repeatedly until Nick promised to start calling the song by its actual name instead of just “Crazy Crazy Crazy.”

“This one here, yeah?” The cab driver asks, pulling up on the pavement suddenly. Nick hadn’t even noticed them slowing down.  
“Yeah, this is it.” He confirms, looking out the window at the street.  
After paying the driver and watching him pull off into the traffic again, Nick runs his hand through the back of his hair and walks up to the door.

He has to knock several times before he hears the keys turning in the lock.  
Eventually the door swings open to reveal an exhausted-looking Harry complete with messed up curls, a ratty, faded shirt and trackies hanging low on his waist.  
“Nnkk?” He mumbles and Nick recognises it as his own name.  
Nick waves awkwardly. “Hiya, you.”

“S’early.” And yeah, maybe Nick should have waited until normal people function rather than working on the premise that as he gets up at ridiculous o’clock daily then everybody else does too.  
“Sorry?” He replies, realising it sounded more like a question.  
“S’cold too.” Nick nods in agreement and the other man steps aside to let him into the warmth.

Harry makes a vague gesture towards the sofa and Nick takes it as a sign to sit down.  
While he tries to look as comfortable as possible in the awkward situation, Harry mumbles something under his breath and walks into the kitchen.

A minute later Nick hears the kettle switch being flicked on and mugs being placed on the countertop. He sits patiently, the sound of the kettle boiling filling the air.

Harry comes back and passes Nick his coffee before perching on the edge of the sofa.  
He tucks his bare toes under the edge of the rug, wiggling them in the way that Nick would usually find irritating but he figures that now isn’t the time to have a go about it.

Harry sighs, putting his mug down on the coffee table suddenly. “Why won’t you let me like you?”  
He won’t even make eye contact with Nick, staring intently at the wall opposite.  
Nick mirrors his sigh, “Harry-”  
“No.” Harry says, finally turning to face Nick with sad eyes. “I mean it. What’s wrong with me?”  
“What’s wrong with _you_?” Nick chokes out a surprised laugh. “There is nothing wrong with _you._ ”  
Harry frowns. “Well then why do you keep pushing me away?”  
“Harry,” Nick places his mug down and rubs his eyes with the heel on his hand. “It’s not about you.”

“I like you.” Harry admits, his voice breaking slightly. Nick basically wants to cry at how small he looks with his shoulders hunched up in an attempt to shy away.  
“I like you too. So fucking much.”  
“Then how come every single time people mention us as, like, _us_ ,” he gestures between them, “you always deny it like nothing’s going on.”

“Because it won’t work.” Nick insists even though he can already feel his defences fading. Stupid Harry Styles and his stupid, perfect face.  
Harry barks a laugh. “Give me one reason why it won’t work? We’ve practically been together for all this time yet you won’t let us _actually_ be together.”  
Nick knows he’s right but he shakes his head. “It’s not the same. I’m not good at relationships and all that fluffy stuff.” He insists.

“I don’t want fluffy stuff.” Harry looks so earnest with his wide eyes and hopeful expression. “I want you. All of you. All of the time.”  
“You’ve already got me, though.” Nick says, voice getting caught in his through slightly.  
“But not really.” Harry says, reaching out and placing a hand on Nick’s knee. “Not every single bit of you.”

Nick takes a deep breath. “You don’t even get it, do you?”  
“Get what?” Harry asks, frowning with that adorable crease between his eyebrows.  
“You do already have all of me. You’ve got every single part of me and it scares the shit out of me.”

Nick’s not sure how it happens but the next thing he knows Harry has crawled into his lap and they’re kissing. They’ve kissed before, sure. Drunken kisses in the dark corners of clubs, goodbye kisses as Nick drops him off at the airport and little pecks on the corner of the mouth just because but it’s never felt like this.

A throaty groan escapes Nick’s throat and he doesn’t even have time to be embarrassed before Harry’s tongue run across the seam of his lips and demanding entry. It makes Nick shiver and he feels Harry grin slightly and nips his bottom lip in a “fuck you” gesture.

Nick slides his hands down to rest on Harry’s hips in an attempt to support him and make sure he doesn’t fall backwards off Nick’s lap and, like, brain himself on the coffee table. _That _would be a mood killer.__ Harry seems content with this and slides his own hands up to cup Nick’s jaw and rub little circles there with his thumb.

He takes Nick’s distraction as a chance to flick his tongue past his lips and start exploring his mouth and fuck if that doesn’t make Nick’s stomach start doing backflips.

It’s not like Nick hasn’t had his fair share of kisses in his time, in fact he’d say he’s pretty much qualified on the kissing front, but there’s something about kissing Harry that makes him feel breathless and a little bit overwhelmed.

He pulls away – ignoring the sound of protest that Harry makes – and leans his forehead against the other man’s.  
“Fuck.” He mutters.  
“Yeah.” Harry agrees, looking more than a little bit smug with his swollen lips and blown pupils.  
Before Nick can say something witty, smart and totally not embarrassing like “You’re beautiful” or “Let me lick your face”, Harry interrupts his perverted train of thought by leaning his head down to scatter kisses down Nick’s throat, biting and sucking the skin to bring out what Nick predicts will be pretty impressive purple bruises.

When Nick lets out an impressive groan and reaches up to tangle a hand in Harry’s curls, the younger man looks up and Nick takes in Harry’s swollen lips and blown pupils.

“Jesus, Haz.” He mumbles and Harry just leans in again. His eyes slip closed as their lips press together again, mouths opening instantly and heads tilted to get the perfect angle.

After a few minutes, Harry seems to get impatient and breaks away from the kiss to run his hands down Nick’s torso and pull at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head before mirroring the action on himself.

Harry makes a predatory sound that goes straight to Nick’s dick and his hands start exploring Nick’s skin while he starts nibbling at his throat. When Nick feels the pair of hands trail down his spine and rest on his arse he decides that’s quite enough of the kissing nonsense.  
“C’mon.” He says, pushing a confused Harry gently off his lap and onto his feet.  
He pretends not to see the smug look on Harry’s face as he himself stands on shaky legs. Harry seems to get the idea as Nick starts to direct him towards the bedroom with two hands on his shoulders and grabs Nick’s hand and practically drags them there, shoving Nick down onto his back in the middle of the bed.  
Nick chuckles at his eagerness, “Well, then.”

Harry just rolls his eyes and climbs over him, held up by his forearms on either side of Nick’s head.  
“Do you want-”  
“Yes.” Nick interrupts.  
Harry grins and raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”  
“Still yes.”  
“Good.” Harry presses a kiss to his lips before rolling off him and reaching over and opening the draw in his bedside table.

Nick starts to freak out a little bit internally deciding that maybe he should have checked was he was agreeing to. He lets out the breath he was holding when Harry turns back around with a bottle of lube in one hand and a box of condoms in the other.  
“Being a bit optimistic, aren’t we?” Nick nods towards the box.  
Harry snorts, “I need to open it, you twat.”

The fact that Harry’s bedside table contains a box of condoms that he hasn’t ever used shouldn’t make Nick feel as giddy as it does.  
“You’ve done this before, right?” Nick asks, sitting up and leaning back on his elbows.  
Harry just rolls his eyes. “Yes, Grimmy, I’ve done this before.”  
Nick raises both his hands, hoping to convey ‘just checking’, and falls back flat on the bed.

Harry’s back on him in a second, leaning over and catching his mouth in another kiss before pulling away with a confused look on his face.  
“Don’t break yourself.” Nick grins, tapping Harry’s creased forehead.

“You don’t mind if I bottom, do you?”  
Nick chokes a little bit in surprise. “No, Harold, I don’t mind.” He responds drily once he’s calmed down.  
“It’s just- I really want to _feel you_ , you know?”  
“Fuck.” Nick responds poetically before wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and flipping them over.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of Harry spread out underneath him, flushed and breathing heavily, with a bulge tenting his trackies.

“You will be the death of me, Harry Styles.” He mumbled before reaching down and pulling on the elastic at the top of the trousers.  
Harry, like the patient person he is, starts shuffling around encouraging Nick with a “get them off, you prick” and more wriggling.

Harry’s commando under his trackies and Nick can’t help but appreciate it as he wraps his hand around the other man’s dick and starts to slowly pump it up and down watching Harry’s eyes roll back into his head with a grin.

Eventually, after teasing Harry for a little bit, Nick does slide the item of clothing down Harry’s toned - bloody hell - legs and tosses them onto the floor before sending his own jeans and boxers in the same direction.

Just because, Nick leans down and takes the head of Harry’s dick into his mouth, swirling his tongue around before pulling off with a smirk as Harry tangles his hands into his hair.  
“Not so fast, Harold.” He clicks his tongue, “I seem to remember you asking me to fuck you.”

Harry groans in annoyance and pulls Nick towards him by his hair, licking into his mouth straight away and Nick knows he’s chasing the taste of himself on Nick’s tongue and the thought alone is enough to make him harden even more.

Nick nibbles on Harry’s bottom lip while stroking up and down his thighs, gently coaxing them open. One Harry gets the idea, he’s happy to oblige by spreading his legs and allowing Nick to settle between them.

Reaching over to grab the lube where it’s rolled over the other side of the bed, Nick flips open the cap and slicks up three of his fingers generously.  
“Are you sure about this?” Nick asks, pausing and looking up at Harry’s face.  
The other man nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yes I’m sure.”  
Nick takes a deep breath before moving his fingers down between them. “Alright.”

He holds Harry open and teases at his entrance before slowly slipping a finger in, feeling relieved at the small amount of resistance. The last thing he wants to do is hurt the younger man.

After letting Harry get used to the feeling, he enters another finger into the groaning man and scissors them, causing more sounds of appreciation. When Harry starts to push down onto his fingers impatiently, Nick slides in another finger and crooks them, searching for the spot inside to make the other man scream.

He knows he’s found it when Harry jolts suddenly, letting out an animalistic noise before wriggling away. “I’m ready, I’m – fuck – just do it.”  
“Impatient.” Nick tuts but slides his fingers out and reaches for the condom wrapper, tearing it open and sliding it down onto his painfully hard dick.

He crawls up Harry’s body, leaning down to capture the younger man’s mouth in a rough, possessive kiss. He nips at Harry’s bottom lip before pulling away and nudging his legs further apart.

Harry seems to get the idea and wraps his legs around Nick’s waist, his heels digging into his back. Nick chuckles at his eagerness once more before positioning himself at Harry’s entrance and easing his hips forward until he’s buried to the hilt inside the younger man.

He waits a minute for Harry to get used to the sensation and tries to calm himself down, knowing he isn’t going to last long.

When the other man starts muttering a string of curses and tightens his legs around Nick’s waist, he gets the hint to start to move. He felt the wet head of Harry’s cock dragging against his stomach as he started thrusting slowly and when the curly haired man let out a frustrated groan he began to speed up his thrusts, driving into Harry and causing the boy to moan in pleasure.

There was no use pretending this was going to last anyway, with both of them circling each other, a fair bit of sexual frustration had built up and Grimmy had ignored it for much too long.

“So- Yeah- So fucking good.” Harry mutters, throwing his head back again the pillow and letting out another string of swear words.  
“Yeah.” Nick agrees, flicking the hair that’s stuck to his sweaty forehead away from his eyes.

Nick’s already so close just from seeing Harry coming apart like this and he reaches down, running his hand along the other man’s stomach, teasing him and purposely avoiding his leaking cock.

“Please, Nick, please I need to come.” Harry begs. And begging wasn’t really what Nick was going for but he’d be damned if it didn’t go straight to his dick.

Just from Harry sounding so desperate and wanton while being all spread out and open, Nick can feel himself creeping towards the edge and he knows from the sounds escaping his mouth that Harry is too.

As if he could read Nick’s mind, Harry whines impatiently and snaps his hips upwards, begging Nick to touch him. Nick obliges, wrapping his fist around Harry’s throbbing cock.

He only strokes a couple of times before he feels Harry spill over his hand and both of their stomachs. The sensation of Harry tightening and jolting around his dick is too much and Nick only fucks into the younger man a few more times before his own orgasm washes over him and he releases while buried deep inside Harry.

Once Nick comes back around and his head starts to feel less like he’s underwater, he leans forward and pecks Harry on the mouth before gently pulling out and making his way over to the bathroom bin to dispose of the condom.

When he enters the room again, Harry is curled up and facing him with a lazy grin.  
“Hey.” He drawls.  
Nick chuckles, climbing into the bed behind him, cuddling up and pulling the discarded duvet over them both.  
“You don’t need to look so pleased with yourself.” Nick says after a moment, hiding his own smug smirk into the curls at the base of Harry’s neck.  
Harry just hums in agreement, wiggling around slightly to get comfortable. Nick’s pretty sure that if he hadn’t just had some of the best sex in his life – though he’d never admit that to Harry – his dick could probably get interested at the feel of Harry’s bum grinding against it. As it stands, though, his dick is probably ruined.

“My dick is ruined.” Nick laments dramatically. “You have ruined my dick.”  
Harry snorts. “It seemed to be doing alright from my point of view.”  
Nick is too tired and sex-lazy to think of a good comeback so he just pinches Harry’s waist in the way he always does just to bug him.  
Except usually in those situations they are wearing clothes and he doesn’t have Harry’s drying come on his stomach.  
“This is kind of weird.” Nick says after a moment.  
Harry shrugs. “Good weird.”  
“Good weird.” Nick agrees with a yawn. “It’s definitely good weird.”

____~*~*~_ _ _ _

The next day when Nick drops Harry off at a café to meet up with the rest of the boys for lunch, Harry drags him inside for a “quick cup of coffee” which turns into them all ordering most of the menu and eating a mountain of food with Niall winning the competition for how much food fits into one mouth at once. They laugh and Nick hears all of the stories from the most recent tour and it’s nice.

They ignore the questioning looks they get when Harry snuggles into Nick’s side when Zayn tells an embarrassing story about him falling over or when Nick kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth just because.

When they’ve split the bill and they’re all sprawled out in the crappy faux-leather booth with Harry tucked under Nick’s arm, Louis finally asks “What’s going on between you two, then?”

Harry goes to answer but Nick interrupts him with a casual, “We’re together now, is that an issue?”  
He doesn’t know what he expected the response to be but Louis turning to Liam and announcing “you owe me thirty quid” definitely wasn’t it.  
He looks down at Harry, who just shrugs and grins before leaning up and placing a kiss on Nick’s cheek.

“Probably isn’t an issue then.” Nick mumbles.  
Harry smirks. “Probably not, no.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Click here](http://daintyfics.livejournal.com/680.html) to comment/ give feedback on my new Livejournal community.  
>  Please note that after 3 days the stories will be members only but membership is open all the time.  
> Any prompts/questions can be sent to my ask.fm ([here](http://ask.fm/daintyghosts)) and I am also happy to beta or Brit pick for anybody if they would like me too.  
> ♡


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